There are some times in my life I like to think about and perhaps revisit.

Sitting with my mom in the swing on our front porch on Hamilton Avenue and looking at nothing in particular but talking about everything important.

The first skipmobile (scooter) I made out of used 2-by-4s and iron skate wheels and rode up and down that same street.

The first snowfall of winter and hopefully finding a way to make a snowman live longer.

When school bells stopped ringing and school books were put up for the summer.

When Florence Henderson, later a famous stage performer and television star, attended school with me at the former Saint Francis Academy and I had a puppy love that was starting to bark.

Even much, much more enjoyable was the evening I asked my bride-to-be if she would marry me and she smiled and said yes.

My first car -- a 1948 Plymouth -- that I paid all of $150 for and planned on keeping as a classic antique automobile until my sister wrecked it two times in one afternoon.

The day I was admitted to membership in the United States Navy even after a military doctor told me I was a borderline diabetic. I later learned that was similar to almost being pregnant.

Being able to better appreciate grade school and high school and not relying on military service to get my GED.

Anxiously awaiting the birth of our first child and the three thereafter.

The day my older brother Bob gave me my first new baseball glove and the fun we had using it.

Being invited to sit on the bridge (upper deck) of my ship, the U.S.S. Roanoke, and talk with our captain about his boyhood home in Whitesville and mine in Owensboro.

Christmas morning when one gift and a few pieces of candy was as good as the rest of Christmases elsewhere.

If I could have walked up to my father's casket in the living room of our home on Hamilton when I was just 2 years old and looked at the face I had never before seen, instead of being scared and hiding under the davenport (couch) -- as my mother said I did.

The day after open-heart surgery when my heart surgeon told me he didn't do anything but put new fuel lines to a good engine.

Knowing how much we cared for them, Mom's most popular and constant Saturday night meal was very small hamburgers on very small buns. Today we call that combination a slider.

And about that same time in my life and the lives of my siblings, my baby sister Helen had a difficult time with the word mayonnaise. While she loved the product on sandwiches, she could not come close to pronouncing it. But we knew what she wanted when she asked for teetassy.

That will about be it, I guess. A lot times in our lives are special beyond words and will remain that way until there is more time.

Have a nice day and try building some more nice dreams.

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